


Home Is A Concept, Not A Place

by defendt0pbunk



Series: We're Gonna Get You Help [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Self Harm, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:19:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1752623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defendt0pbunk/pseuds/defendt0pbunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes home from the hospital, but being home doesn't last very long. He refuses to take his medication and it starts an argument with Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is A Concept, Not A Place

**Author's Note:**

> here's my problem, this was originally gonna be the last part of the series, but i had this amazing idea for the end and that bright idea accidentally added another part and prolonged it. i'm so sorry. this one's a little bit longer cos i tried cramming this part and another part together but it didn't work so here's this part and the last part is coming soon! (:

Stepping back into his apartment for the first time in a week, Dean felt like a guest. It was weird because he’d been gone all this time and Castiel had been here by himself. He stood in the living room with his arms crossed staring hard at the floor. He felt timid and shy in his own house, and that posed a problem.

“Dean?” Castiel came in a few minutes after him. “Why don’t you sit down?” He chuckled. _Did he just invite me to sit on my own damn couch? I left for one fucking week and the guy acts like he runs the place._ He thought about it for a minute. _Well, I guess he kinda does, he pays the other half of the rent._

He headed toward his bedroom and froze. The door was shut. He stared at it for a long time with wide eyes. He was filled with a sudden rush of anxiety. He finally reached for the door knob but pulled back. _This is your fucking room, jackass! You’re allowed to go in here! Open the fucking door!_ He reached for it again and turned the handle, pushing it open.

_He fucking cleaned it? He cleaned my room._

He looked around, the floor was spotless, the bed was made, _he dusted the fucking desktop?_ It was filthy when he left. Even though Dean thought it was a nice gesture, he hated when people cleaned his room. He could never find what he wanted when he needed it and that made him panic.

"Uh, Cas?" Dean yelled from his room.

"Yeah?" He called from his bedroom.

"Where's all my shit? It's fucking-" He grimaced. "Sparkly...in here."

"That's because I cleaned it for you," His voice suddenly sounded so much clearer. Dean turned on his heels and jumped a little when he saw that Castiel was now behind him, "So you wouldn't have to worry about it when you came home."

"Thanks, man." He said with a smile. He sat the bag with his stuff from the hospital on the desk. He saw that the bathroom door was cracked. He opened it and flicked on the lights.

Spotless.

"You even cleaned around the toilet? Bet that was a bitch to scrub the piss off the tile," He chuckled and turned around to look at Castiel. "I piss in the dark." He laughed again. "And sometimes I miss." He smirked with a shrug.

"Tell me about it!" Castiel said sitting on the edge of Dean's bed. "I scrubbed the shit with bleach, then I mopped it!" He shook his head. "You are a disgusting person, Dean Samuel Winchester." He said with a chuckle.

He turned back to look at Castiel. "You dropped the middle name, i'm in trouble."

"Damn right, you're in trouble. It smelled fucking horrid in there, I don't know how you stand it. I'm not even that gross."

Dean glared at him and rolled his eyes so hard, he thought they were gonna pop out of their sockets. "Jesus Christ! We share the same bathroom, so don't even tell me that it's just my fault. I know for a fact that you don't have perfect aim either, hot shot."

Castiel laughed. "You're so dramatic, Deanna Samantha."

"Do not!-" He pointed his finger at Castiel and pursed his lips tightly. "Fucking call me that!"

Castiel ignored him. "So..is it later yet?" He asked with a sigh rolling over onto his back staring at the ceiling fan.

Dean's eyes widened in horror. "I-I gotta-gotta- " He started, backing up slowly into the bathroom bumping the desk on the way there. "Pee." He stammered. When the door was shut, he sighed and let out a shaky breath.

Dean was no good with putting his feelings into words. Once, in the eighth grade, he liked this girl named Penny Hamilton and he thought it'd get a lot off his chest. He wrote a note to her in science class one day, but Mr. Thompson caught him writing it so he made him read it in front of the entire class. It traumatized him, but like a week later he approached her again while walking home from school with Sammy and got so flustered he tripped off the curb and broke his wrist.

So to answer Castiel's question, no it wasn't later yet. He needed to stall as long as possible, because what if the Penny Hamilton situation happens again? But without the broken wrist? If Castiel rejected him, that'd be awkward because they live together and they probably won't say a word to each other after that. He couldn't risk it. He should've just kept his stupid mouth shut. Feelings were gross, he knew that and they overwhelm him when he's trying to sleep at 2:30 in the morning. Why do his cheeks get warm when he tells a joke? Why does his stupid heart start to race every time he looks at him longer than three seconds? Why does he flash that stupidly adorable smile every time he-

"Dean?" There was a soft tap on the door. He froze and he felt his throat start to close. He gasped for air.

"Yeah, Cas?" He choked out, then coughed.

"Are you alright? What are you doing in there?" He asked. "You've been in there a few minutes.."

"I'm taking a leak, Cas!" He lied. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub freaking out, trying to regain control of his breathing. "You wanna come in and hold my fucking hand?"

He threw his hands up in defense, even though Dean couldn't see. "Alright, okay. I'm just making sure you're okay." He said.

"I'm fine, Cas. Really." He said sounding kind of annoyed.

Castiel fell back onto Dean's bed and sighed heavily. He heard the toilet flush and Dean walked out. "What do you want for lunch?" He asked nonchalantly, rubbing his eyes.

"Uh, I-uh, don't-don't know." He stuttered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Castiel let out a chuckle, "what wrong with you man? Why are you stuttering?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

Dean felt embarrassed all the sudden. He dropped his head and smoothed his hair. "It's from my meds, Cas. I can't-ant help it. I got put on them a few days ago and they make me happy and excited, it's disgusting, really. And I stutter and my words get smashed together.."

"It's not disgusting, Dean. You're brain just doesn't produce enough of the needed chemicals for you to be happy on your own, it's helping you that's all." Castiel explained.

"We'll it's gross, I hate being happy." He complained.

"Come on Negative Nancy, let's go make us some lunch." Castiel chuckled, pushing Dean out the door.

* * *

“Oh my G-God, Cas! This is amazing! Where did you learn to make this?” Dean beamed stuffing his face full of stromboli. Dean's had stromboli, but never any as good as this.

"Eh," He shrugged taking another bite. "Google." He replied.

"We'll it's fucking delicious." He complimented.

Castiel chuckled, "You've never had stromboli before?" He asked curiously.

He nodded and took a sip of his Pepsi to wash down the huge bite he shoved in his mouth. He swallowed before answering, "My mom..she used to make it when me and Sammy were younger, and it was good, but not this good. Like, she didn't season it or use, uh, wha-what was that stuff called?" He looked over to Castiel for an answer.

"Um, egg wash." He said with a smile.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Egg wash... Why the fuck is it called egg wash? Who the fuck came up with that?"

Castiel glared at him. "You know what egg wash is, Dean."

"It's just fucking eggs! You brush it onto shit and voila!" He said. "But my mom used to always make the pizza kind, I didn't even know you could put chicken in this."

"You can put anything you want in it. I like mine with chicken the best." Castiel told him.

Dean got up and held his hand out. "You done?" Castiel nodded and Dean took the plates in the kitchen.

"Hey Dean?" Castiel called from the living room.

"Yeah?"

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah, before breakfast this morning. Why?" He asked confused, walking back to the living room.

Castiel shook his head. "Just wondering, we should probably take the scripts to the pharmacy, huh?"

Dean shook his head violently. "Nope! I don't even need them.  Look what they're doing to me!"

"What? Helping you, you mean?"

"No, making me happy, they're making me fucking stutter, and other shit. I'm fucking upset because taking them is making me happy and I don't fucking wanna be." He shouted.

Castiel just stared at him because he didn't even know how to respond to something like that.

"I just- I don't want to take them anymore, Cas. Please don't make me." He pleaded in a whisper.

"Dean. It's not my decision. You have to want to get better. You can't go on and off your meds. It'll fuck you up, dude. It happened to my cousin, she's been off and on for almost five years cause just when she starts feeling happy again, she stops taking them and she gets real sick. It's from withdraw and that's something you don't want."

Dean scoffed, "Well, better quit while i'm ahead then." He said sarcastically.

"Dean.." Castiel said, his voice so quiet Dean almost didn't hear him say his name.

"What, Castiel? What?" Dean yelled from across the room.

"You need it Dean." He said softly, his voice kept getting louder as words poured from his mouth. "You need it because all those thoughts you told me about-" He chuckled. "All those thoughts you think about.. alone in your room, when it's fucking dead silent in the house.. And i'm asleep. The thoughts that make you cry at night.." He trailed off for a second. "They will catch up to you and something in you will fucking snap!" He swallowed the huge lump in his throat and shook his head, he felt like he was going to cry because his eyes were starting to burn.

Dean just stared at him with an angry scowl on his face. _How the ever loving fuck did a simple question turn into this big fucking argument? Jesus Christ, he's so fucking dramatic._

"I don't- I don't uh," Castiel cleared his throat for what felt like a third time. His voice was trembling now, but he pushed through. "I don't know what I would do if I came into your room to check on you but I look up and see you dangling from your ceiling fan..or if I walked in the bathroom and saw you lying in your own blood with your fucking arms cut open.. probably cut open so goddamn deep, that if I were to take you to the ER they would probably tell me they couldn't stitch you up because you cut too fucking deep. Or what if something like that were to happen and I went out for a few minutes. You wouldn't have a goddamn pulse when I got back?" He took a deep breath and wiped his watery eyes before tears fell then he glanced up at Dean.

Dean's lip was quivering and he kept biting it to keep from crying. His eyes were filled with tears, but he wouldn't blink because he knew if they did, they wouldn't stop.

"Look, Dean.. I know you're a grown ass man and I know you're pretty damn capable of taking care of yourself, but i'm just trying to fucking help, man..let me. I'm not the bad guy here. I've been trying to help you from the start. I've been here since you thought you were crashing and burning. I'm basically all you have," He looked up in thought, "You have Sam, but Sam..he's-" He let out a chuckle and threw his arm out. "He's across the fucking country! In school for fucks sake. I live with you, Dean. I see you everyday, and I know that it's not my job to look out for you. But it's not in my nature to see back and watch you fucking suffer! I don't know what's going on in here, man-" He said gently tapping Dean's temple, gesturing to his brain. "But I sure the hell would like to help you fix it. So stop being a such a little cocksucker and go get your scripts so we can fucking leave." He demanded sternly pointing to Dean's room.

Dean turned around and walked to his room, letting out a shaky breath. He dug in his folder for the prescriptions and walked out. He handed the prescriptions to Castiel when he got back in the living room.

Castiel patted his jeans down looking for the keys. "Dean? Keys?" He asked worriedly.

Dean half jogged to his room and grabbed the keys and ran back out to Castiel and tossed them to him.

"Okay." He said turning on his heels and walking to the front door. "Let's go."

In the car Dean slumped in seat and and leaned against the window. This is total bullshit. Dude's got another thing comin' if he thinks i'm taking those shitty pills. They pulled into the CVS drive-thru four minutes later and waited in line.

"Birthday?" Castiel asked looking at Dean.

"1-24-90." He mumbled.

_Christ! This takes forever. We've been sitting here for like ten minutes._

"Come on!" Dean growled then let out a loud sigh.

"We're next, Dean. Calm down." Castiel tried soothing him.

The car in front of them pulled away and Castiel pulled up to the window. _Fucking finally!_

The pharmacist opened the window with a smile and handed her the prescriptions. She typed Dean's information into the computer and opened the window again, "The medication should all be in by 9:30 tomorrow morning."

"Okay, thank you." Castiel said politely before pulling away.

After dinner they sat down to watch a movie, a half hour into it Dean was reminded to take his Abilify. At first he put up a huge fight and started to argue with Castiel. Then he took it just so he would shut the fuck up. Now he's currently asleep with his head in Castiel's lap. He was out ten minutes ago. Castiel was running his fingers through his short brown hair.

Castiel glanced down at him for a second and smiled. "Damn." He whispered. He counted his freckles on his face and connected some of them with his index finger, which made Dean stir a little and scrunch his nose. 178. Dean had 178 freckles, but that was just on his face. Castiel wondered how many more he had on the rest of him.

"Dean." He shook him gently. Nothing. "Dean." He gave him another shake. His eyes fluttered opened and closed a few times. "Get up so we can go to bed." He whispered.

Dean laid there for a few seconds and whined. Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair again, "Come on, Dean. Get up." He said trying to coax him off the couch.

He muttered something Castiel couldn't quite make out. Castiel walked to his bedroom and Dean drug himself quietly behind him. Dean climbed into his bed and Castiel just stared at him.

"Wrong bed, Dean." He told him.

"No." He yawned laying his head down and got comfortable under the blankets. "Right bed."

Ah! Fuck it! He's asleep already. One night's not gonna hurt anything. Castiel turned off his bedside lamp and slid down under the covers. "Goodnight, Dean." He said in a hushed tone. He knew Dean was asleep but he said it anyway.

"Mornin' Castiel!" Dean beamed. He had already been awake since six o'clock this morning. Castiel rubbed his eyes and trudged across the room into Dean's room and went in the bathroom. He heard a stream of urine hitting water which meant Castiel had left the door wide open. Castiel walked back to the kitchen.

"Why are you so enthusiastic this early in the morning, Dean?" His voice was rough and sleep filled.

"The meds, Cas." He replied.

" I thought you didn't have any right now?" He asked hopping up into the counter.

"Dr. Harvelle gave me a sample of each one until I get mine." Dean explained.

"Ah." He nodded. "Should I go pick them up, or do you wanna do that?"

"I got it." He said looking over at him. "You want me to get breakfast or you wanna make something here?" Dean asked.

"I'll make something here, so you can get your medicine and come right home. Unless...you want something else?" He looked up at him.

"You just wanna go with me? We can pick some shit up and come back and make breakfast." Dean said with a smile.

Castiel jumped off the counter and looked at the outfit he threw on before going to bed last night. Nike sweatpants and one of Dean's band tees. How the hell he ended up with it, he had no clue. "Let me change and find a pair of shoes first." Castiel said jogging to his bedroom. Dean grabbed his bicep and he swung back around facing Dean.

"Just wear that, you look fine." Dean told him. "Wear a pair of my shoes."

Castiel scoffed and looked at him. "Dean, your feet are huge! I can't fit your shoes."

Dean laughed, "You know what they say about huge feet.."

"Huge socks!" Castiel yelled from his bedroom.

"That's right!" Dean replied grabbing the keys and heading outside. Castiel followed behind him, pulling the door shut.

They went to the store first because picking up his prescriptions would take two minutes.

"What do you even want?" He asked walking through the entrance of Wal-Mart with Castiel by his side.

Castiel just shrugged.

"Never in my life have I ever been to the grocery store this early." Dean commented.

"We"ll, there's a first time for everything I guess. I'm feeling waffles."

"Waffles it is then!" Dean said as he lead the way to the frozen food section.

"Uh, What are you doing, Winchester?" He grabbed Dean's arm to stop him. "I want waffles, not this fake factory Eggo bullshit.

"Alright Jesus, chill." Dean said as he turned on his heels and headed in the other direction to the baking isle. "We don't even have a waffle iron, retard." Dean added.

"Then I guess we'll have to buy one, won't we princess?" Castiel said sarcastically.

A half hour later with a waffle iron and Dean's medicine. They drove home. "Dude," Dean said heading to the kitchen. "We just blew one hundred and fifteen dollars in a half hour. How does that even happen?"

"Take your meds?" Castiel asked totally ignoring what Dean said seconds before.

"After breakfast." Dean told him while he unloaded the groceries. He sat the waffle iron on the counter.

Castiel mixed the waffle batter into a bowl and waited for Dean to unbox the iron and plug it in.

"Cas?" He looked over at him. "I woke up in your room this morning...How did I get in there?"

Castiel didn't meet his eyes. He was busy worrying about breakfast. "I think you were sleep walking, 'cause I told you to go to your room and you didn't want to. So just let you sleep."

"Oh my god!" His eyes widened and he turned to Castiel. "Did we spoon?" He asked in a low whisper.

"No, dude. You were dead asleep." Castiel said.

Dean took his Celexa after he had finished eating. He was lying on the floor in the living room and Castiel was spread across the couch. "Dean, is it later yet?" He asked.

"I have to pee, but I don't want to get up." He said.

Castiel sighed. "Dude, why are you ignoring me? I'm trying to see how you feel about this but every time I bring it up, you run and hide. Why?" He asked, getting a little pissed off."

Dean just laid on the floor messing with his fingers. He shrugged, "I don't know."

"We're just gonna talk." He reminded him.

"I'm not good with feelings, Cas." He said flipping on his stomach. "You know that, I told you.."

"Yeah..I know, but tell me how you feel and i'll take it from there. Baby steps, Dean."

He sighed and sat up, "This better not turn out like Penny Hamilton.." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Who's Penny Hamilton?" Castiel asked him.

"A fucking emotional disaster and a broken wrist." He explained sarcastically.

"Okay, I don't see what Penny has to do with Me. Anyway, run me through what you said before you went to the hospital."

Dean's stomach dropped and he exhaled all the air from his lungs, then wiped his hands on his pants. "I said I think I love you and that you give me butterflies and yada yada yada."

Castiel chuckled, "There's more than that! I know there is."

"I've said too much already, tied me down and beat it outta me if you want. I'm not saying another word."

Castiel sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. Then Dean's phone rang. It was Benny He answered it with a laugh. "Hey, man! I thought you were never gonna get out of that shit hole." He pushed himself to his feet and looked back at Castiel as he walked in his room and shut the door behind him.

Castiel stared at the wall for a few minutes then got up and tip toed to Dean's door. He pressed his ear to it and listened. He knew it was wrong to ease drop and he didn't really care who he was talking to, he just wanted to know what they were talking about. He couldn't hardly hear because his voice was muffled.

"Thank god you called when you did! I told Cas how I feel about him and he brought it up again and i'm afraid to talk about my feelings so.."

Why was he afraid? It's not that bad.. Castiel listened for a few minutes. He he turned the knob and pushed the door open, poking his head in, "Still on Nazi Lockdown, Princess!" He reminded him before walking away. He still was on Nazi Lockdown, no doors, whatsoever. Plus he just needed an excuse to open the door to better hear their conversation.

He was in the kitchen pouring himself something to drink. He froze when he heard Dean describe a person. He listened carefully and tried not to make any noise. He smiled deviously to himself, if Dean wasn't gonna talk, Castiel was gonna torture him until he did.

He likes it when Castiel tells jokes, when he stares at him for long periods of time, and when he does the tongue thing, or when he wears Dean's shirts, laughing, and a lot of other stuff.

He was gonna have so much fun doing this.

Dean came out of his room and looked around for Castiel. He wasn't in the living room. Not in the kitchen. "Castiel!" He yelled through the house.

"What babe?" He responded with a sly smile.

Dean tilted his head and walked in Castiel's room. "What did you just call me?" He asked quietly, with a confused look on his face. His cheeks were bright red from blushing.

"Oh, sorry. It slipped." Castiel chuckled.

"Why are you laughing?" Dean asked.

Castiel just shook his head. "No reason. Who were you on the phone with?"

"I asked you a question first."

"Jeez, attitude much?" Castiel retorted. "I don't know, I was just thinking of something funny."

"Uh huh!" Dean scoffed.

Castiel looked at him for a few seconds and slid his tongue across his top row of teeth. Dean groaned loudly and stormed out. Castiel just chuckled because he knows Dean saw him. "Dean!" Castiel called with a laugh.

He followed Dean to the living room. He was slumped down on the couch. "Dean?" Castiel chuckled and caressed his arm, he jerked away quickly. "What's wrong? He asked quietly.

"Nothing." He huffed.

"Really? Cause," He gestured to Dean's face in a circular motion. "All that- the furrowed brow and the tightly clenched jaw..sure looks alot like something." Castiel explained, trying his hardest not to laugh but a tiny snicker slipped from behind his teeth.

"Cas..don't man." He ordered shaking his head.

Castiel lightly grazed his arm before pulling away. Dean got up and stormed to his bedroom, slamming the door behind. "Fucking stupid with his messy hair and his teeth, and his long ass fingers rubbing against my arm, and he did the fucking tongue thing! What a fucking dick! Oh my god I want to knock his lights out, but I don't want to ruin that handsome face. Jesus Christ, the struggle. That sarcastic gorgeous asshole is-"

"Dean, you better not be breaking shit in there. Unlock the door." He demanded.

"Give me a minute, Jesus!" He yelled, sighing loudly.

Castiel waited behind his door. He was just messing with him. He didn't expect that reaction from him at all.

The lock clicked on the door and he waited a few seconds before entering. Dean was laying face down on his bed with his head buried under his abundance of pillows. "What was that all about?" He asked sitting on the end of the bed.

Dean froze and his body tensed up. What? The thing in the living room? Or the part where I slammed my door and named off everything that's currently pissing me off?

"What was what about?" He asked poking his head out from under the pillow.

"You know what i'm talking about." Castiel fumed.

"You're pissing me off!" He shouted from under his pillow, but it was muffled so Castiel had a hard time hearing.

"How?" Castiel grinned stupidly. He knew exactly what was pissing Dean off, but he liked seeing him getting worked up over small fixable situations.

"I love you." He mumbled quietly under his pillow.

"What? I can't hear you." Castiel teased, still grinning from ear to ear.

Dean sat up and kinda did something between a groan and a growl, it was deep in his throat. He grabbed the sides of Castiel's face and kissed him long and hard, letting it linger for a second of two before pulling away. He held onto his face a second longer before dropping his arms. He panted quietly trying to catch his breath. His heart was beating so fast he felt like he didn't have a pulse. "I love you, you fucking asshole."

Castiel's eyes were as wide as baseballs. Dean caught him totally off guard, because he did not see that coming. At all. He thought Dean would yell at him, which he did. He wasn't expecting a kiss.

He looked at Dean and saw that the entirety of his face was bright red. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"What? Oh no! Please never ever feel sorry for that." Castiel told him honestly. "Ever!"

Dean blushed again and nodded.

Castiel smiled at him, "Finally cracked under pressure, huh?" He teased.

Dean punched his arm lightly. "What! You did that on purpose, you ass?"

"Well duh, it was the only way to get you to talk! I had no choice!" He said with a wink.

"Well it fucking worked, didn't it?"

Castiel laughed, "Oh, it worked and I was successful." He ran his tongue across his lips and looked at Dean.

Dean bit his lip and groaned under his breath watching Castiel's spit slicked lips glisten in the sunlight that was currently shining through the window. "Okay, you're not allowed doing the tongue thing anymore, okay? Don't!"

"What am I doing?" He asked.

"Th-the-the tongue thing, with your lips and your teeth and- just- no. Don't do it! Because I just kissed you pretty hard and my body is numb and i'm in shock. So don't do the tongue thing, because it is not helping."

Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, okay." Dean just smiled at him. "So," Castiel started, playing with a loose string on Dean's bed. "Tell me how you really feel." He went on.

"Man, Cas! Come on! I just kissed you. Wasn't that enough for today? Don't you think? You said baby steps." Dean reminded him.

"Yep. That's right! I did say baby steps. Well, okay, i'll give you a break. For now."

Dean was back to work a few days later. This guy just waltzed in the front door and asked if he could have Dean start a back piece. Which he was totally okay with because the bigger the piece, more the money. The more money he had, he could send out to Cali for Sammy because let's face it the kid's a fucking giant and he's probably grown another foot since he's been there because all he eats is rabbit food. Which meant Sam might've needed new clothes.

"Dean," Kevin called walking toward the back of the shop.

A 'yeah' rang out from the break room and Dean emerged from behind a closed wooden door.

"Yo- this dude wants you for a back piece."

Dean made his way up front to look at the design.

"Do you want this in color?" He asked, looking up at the man, who was easily another three inches taller than he was.

"Yeah." The guy nodded and Dean lead him to the back of the shop to one of the rooms.

Dean has been working on this guy for about two hours, no breaks. His entire right arm was cramping, along with his fingers, his wrist and his shoulder. He was also a hundred and two percent sure his back was out from leaning over this guy for so long, but he was tired. He wanted to go home and relax, but he wasn't gonna stop until he was done with this outline.

He released his foot off the pedal, and set the gun on the tray beside him. He cleaned the guy up and walked over and peeled the black latex gloves from his hands and threw them away. It wasn't until after he was done drying his hands that the noticed the gash on Dean's arm.

"Woah! How'd that happen?" He asked pointing to Dean's arm.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and waved it off like it was no big deal. "Bar fight." He finally told the guy nonchalantly. He positioned the stand up mirror at an angle to where the guy could see his tattoo.

"Wow," He marveled. "It looks fucking great!" He told Dean with a smile.

"I'm glad you like it." Dean said with a chuckle. "It'll look better with color and detail though..a lot better."

"Thanks, man."

"Hey, no problem. Just make sure not to wear a shirt and try avoiding showers for the next few hours. Keep it moisturized with non scented lotion, A&D ointment, vitamin E oil..it's like three dollars a bottle in the Walmart pharmacy. When it scabs over, it's gonna start itching. Do not pick at it, cause nine times out of ten, it will pull the color out and we don't want that." He explained walking up to the front counter.

Dean headed home after his shift. His hands were so sore he could barely grip the steering wheel, but he managed to make it home safely.

"Cas, i'm home!" He shouted when he walked through the front door of his apartment. He made it to his bedroom and fell on his bed, not bothering to kick his shoes off. "Holy shit, that feels amazing." He said aloud to himself.

The bathroom door swung up and he jolted up with a start, clutching his chest. "Christ! I didn't know you were home, Cas. You didn't answer when I walked in.."

"Sorry. My hands were full." He said pointing over his shoulder to the bathroom. "How was work?" He asked, climbing on Dean's bed next to him.

"I did a four hour back piece with a ten minute break...my right arm and everything hurts." He sighed.

"How'd that turn out?" Castiel asked, lifting Dean's hand up massaging it a little.

"Fucking great actually. It was just the outline though."

"Speaking of tattoos...I wanted you to work on mine, but I guess another time would suffice." He said looking at Dean.

Dean scoffed and nodded, "Yeah, no shit."

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair a few times. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know..." He replied.

"Hey," Castiel started nudging his arm a little. "When we went to Walmart a few days ago..didn't you run back in and get bacon?"

"Y-yeah." He stammered, lying through his teeth.

"Is it in the fridge?" Castiel asked him.

Dean turned on his side and snuggled up to Castiel and closed his eyes. "Should b-" He trailed off falling asleep quickly.

Castiel peered down and looked at Dean and began to rub his back in slow circles.

Castiel woke up first and slid out from under Dean. He was practically sleeping on top of him. He looked at his phone and checked the time. 5:28. He had to find something to make for dinner. Maybe they should just order out. He waited for Dean to wake up but he fell asleep doing so.

When Dean did finally wake up he walked out to the living room and saw that Castiel was passed out on the couch. "Castiel," He ran his fingers through the other man's dark hair. "Cas, hey." He gave his shoulder a gentle shake and Castiel blinked sleepily looking up at Dean. "Wake up." He whispered.

Castiel didn't budge. Dean dropped to his knees beside the couch and leaned in close to his ear. "Castiel." He whispered feeling his own hot breath blow back in his face. He waited a few more seconds. "Castiel." He said, lingered on the L and slowly slid his tongue across Castiel's earlobe.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, looking up at him.

"Get up, sweet thang." Dean said patting his chest before rising to his feet.

Castiel rubbed his eyes. "You wanna eat out for dinner?" He asked with a yawn finally pushing himself off the couch following Dean.

"Pizza? I'm feeling a greasy ass pizza." Dean grinned.

They got their pizza and Dean carried it to the couch and sat it on Castiel's lap.

"Take your meds?" Castiel looked over at him, piling pizza onto his plate.

Dean sighed and glared at him, "Come on, Cas! I haven't even ate yet. That shit knocks me out. I don't want to fucking take it."

"Okay, okay." Castiel said taking a bite out of his pizza. "Just switch the time that you take it. It won't hurt anything."

Dean shook his head, "How about I not take them at all?" He asked sarcastically looking at Castiel. "That's an even better idea!"

"Dean..i'm not doing this." Castiel demanded shaking his head.

Dean just laughed and ate his pizza. He wanted to say a few things but it wasn't even worth arguing about.

When Dean was done he went straight to his room without taking his medicine. He knew Castiel would knock soon so he waited.

There it was.

Dean? Can I come in?" He asked quietly. He opened the door seconds after. Dean was burried under his blankets. He belly flopped on Dean's bed and started tickling him. A high pitched laugh rang into Castiel's ear, he pulled the covers back. "Can I come in your fort?"

Dean pulled back the covers so he could crawl under the blankets with him. He pulled them back and giggled when he saw the outline of Castiel's face. "I can't see you." He pouted.

"Why do you need to see me?" Castiel asked.

"Reasons." Dean whispered. Castiel could feel Dean's fingers starting to lock with his. He just let it happen, because just a few seconds later he closed the gap between them and felt their lips mesh together.

* * *

The next evening Dean was leaving work and he got a phone call. _5572? I don't know that fucking number. Who the fuck is this?_ He answered.

No way in hell was he talking about his bullshit problems with a bullshit head doctor! No fucking way! Dean Winchester does not do feelings, he runs from them.

He drove the rest of the way home pissed out of his mind. He walked in the front door and went straight to his room and slammed the door. He locked it behind him and dug in the bottom of his desk for the new pack of blades he bought the other day when he ran back into the store to get bacon.

He was shaking so bad he could hardly get the box of blades open. When he finally he got it open, he took one out and drug it across his skin and instantly started crying. _Down the road, not across the street. Down the road, not across the street._

He felt skin split open in all the different places on his arms. His eyes were so filled with tears he couldn't see anything. _I am not fucking going to counseling! How did they even get my number? I don't even need their help._ He liked new blades, because they stung a little while after his skin was cut open. I deserve every ounce of pain i've inflicted upon myself because I am a shitty person. He was so mad. He certainly didn't agree to counseling when he left the hospital, he remembers.

He kinda went crazy in those five minutes with his new blade. He looked around him and the floor, the counter, and his shirt were covered in his blood. He didn't think he cut deep enough but there was a few cuts on each arm that were gushing blood. He applied pressure to them one arm at a time. He started to sway and his head fell to the side. He gripped the sink to keep his balance. _Cas! Gotta..get...Castiel!_ He walked into the bedroom opening the door, covering the doorknob in blood. He staggered and swayed to find Castiel. He was leaving a trail of blood behind him every step of the way.

He pushed his door open just barely. "Cas..." He said quitely stepping into the room.

Castiel was on his computer transferring money to his bank account when he heard his name. He looked up and the smile faded quickly from his face once he realized what was wrong. "Dean!" He screamed, jumping up from the bed. His laptop thrown carelessly aside. He was by Dean's side the second his body fell to the floor. He caught his head just in time.

"Dean!" Castiel yelled again, trying to wake him up. He didn't waste anytime fucking around. He picked Dean up and rushed him to the car. He didn't bother locking the door. There was no time for it. But he did take his car, because there is no way in hell that he would hear the end of the hospital incident if he had gotten Dean's blood all over the leather seats in the Impala.

Castiel was pretty sure he went from zero to a hundred in less that fifteen seconds. He would've called an ambulance but he wasn't gonna watch Dean bleed out on the floor while waiting for the slow ass EMT's to get their shit in gear.

 **  
**He burst through the doors of the Emergency Room cradling Dean's unconscious body in his arms. "I need help!" He yelled frantically.


End file.
